


A missing bond

by reclusiveq



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Flashback, M/M, Mild Smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reclusiveq/pseuds/reclusiveq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James knows something is missing, but he can't remember what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A missing bond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheMadKatter13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadKatter13/gifts).



> Prompt fill for [themadkatter13](http://themadkatter13.tumblr.com): Stucky soulmate AU. I don't even care what, as long as it's got some sort of marking on skin, and TWS or post-TWS.
> 
> Huge thanks to [merindab](http://merindab.tumblr.com) and [hums-happily](hums-happily.tumblr.com) for helping me with the smut and betaing the fic.

_“Mission report.”_

_The asset didn’t look up. He stared at his prosthetic arm, eyes boring into the gleaming metal plates, as if trying to see something that wasn’t there. He barely heard his commander, his gaze turned inward to dreams that felt more like memories, of a man that was and wasn’t him and a word that couldn’t be seen._

_“Mission report now.”_

_There was a sense of recognition, and the musky smell of another, someone close to him. A brother? No, closer than a brother. But these weren’t real memories. They couldn’t be. The asset didn’t have a past. He was. He existed in the present. The past was only useful to determine patterns. It had no meaning to him._

_His commander - Director Pierce - backhanded him. The asset felt the others in the room tense, hands on their weapons, ready for the asset to react._

_He didn’t. He looked up finally, into the eyes of the man who had given him his mission - a mission he had failed because of the man on the bridge._  
  
“Who the hell is Bucky?”  
 _  
More words that held no meaning for the asset. Words… like the missing one that made his left arm ache with phantom pains._

_“The man on the bridge,” the asset said. “I knew him…”_

~~~  
The asset shoved the soldier against the wall, growling, his first instinct to eliminate all threats to himself and his mission, just as he’d been trained for. The soldier barely grunted, taking the blow with, well, not ease, but certainly not the degree of pain most men experienced when the asset attacked.

The soldier fought back, and there was familiarity with the fighting style. The soldier wasn’t aiming to hurt or even incapacitate, just to defend himself and the target. What was the target? The asset faltered, and looked at the soldier. No, not a soldier. A Captain. Steve. “Steve?” The asset’s voice sounded unsure, then everything came into clearer focus. There was no mission. No target. James Buchanan Barnes was at a safe house, one of many he’d been circulating through for the past year. He’d been sleeping, dreaming. Steve’s presence had woken James, who had immediately shifted into winter soldier mode.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice was thick with emotion he was trying not to show. Of course he was terrible at hiding how he felt. Hadn’t he always been? “You with me?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” James asked. Now that he had his bearings at least somewhat straight, he was annoyed that Steve had intruded on him… And angry at himself for attacking his friend again.

“You really have to ask that, Bucky? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“I stayed away for a reason. I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t.” Steve gave James a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And you won’t.”

“How do you know?” James moved to straighten his sheets on instinct, then remembered he hadn’t been using any sheets. That’s right. Sheets and blankets were a hindrance. Even more so now, with the nightmares. 

Steve reached over and grabbed James’ left wrist, his fingers curling around the metal, not trapping, but reassuring. There was something in that touch, something intimate. “Because I know you,” Steve said.

James’ heart raced. There it was again, that feeling that there was something he was missing, something he should be remembering. “You knew _him_ ,” James growled. He knew should push Steve away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. “I’m not the same man you knew.”

“No, you aren’t,” Steve said. “It’s true you changed. But so did I.”

“You didn’t murder countless innocents.”

“Neither did you, and I’m not leaving until you believe that. You aren’t responsible for those people’s deaths. Hydra is. You weren’t in control.”

James looked away. He couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes. Steve was utterly certain that James was no longer a threat, a certainty that James didn’t have. “I should have been. I should have fought more.”

“Bucky, I read your file. You fought them for nearly a year. Hell, you were half dead when they found you. If you want to hate someone, hate them. Not yourself.”

“I broke before. What’s to stop me from--”

Steve cut off James’ words with a kiss. It was sudden, not forceful and certainly not unwanted, and it took James a moment to process. The kiss itself held a lot of unspoken emotion behind it. James could almost feel that missing part of himself returning, an odd sensation since he didn’t know exactly what was missing. 

Steve broke the kiss a moment later. “I will stop you. I will be there with you every step of the way.”

The corner of James’ mouth twitched. “Every step, huh?”

Grinning, Steve nodded. “I know it’ll be hard, but I won’t let you go again.”

“Prove it,” James said, before he quite realised what he was saying. It just felt right, like a missing piece to the puzzle that was his life. An important piece. Steve didn’t seem to need further urging, although James detected a hint of hesitation on his side. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, Steve.”

“I want to, Bucky. I just want to be sure you’re ready.”

“I can’t explain it, Steve, but it would help. I’m screwed up in my head. Everything is muddled and trying to sort out the real memories from the fake ones is exhausting. But not this. This feels right. Like… There’s something I can’t remember, a part of me is missing, and I don’t know what it is, but I know you would fill that hole.”

Steve blinked at him, then guided him over to the dirty mattress on the floor, the closest Bucky had allowed himself to any kind of ‘luxury’. Once they were seated, Steve stretched out his left arm and pulled his sleeve back. There was a word tattooed on the skin, a simple word: ‘Punk’.

“What is that?” James asked. It felt familiar and personal, but the memory wouldn’t come.

“When a person meets their soul mate, they get a word etched into their skin. It’s the first nickname that their soul mate gives them. When you first met me, you called me a punk. You were angry then, but as we became friends, it became more of a term of endearment. You… you had one too.”

James looked at his left arm, the spot above his wrist a blank slate. Of course no word was there. His real arm was lost to the mountains and snow, decaying in a canyon somewhere for the past seventy years. It all clicked into place now, that missing piece, the loss of his other half. “Mine…”

“Jerk,” Steve said, the smile back on his face. “Yours said ‘Jerk’. But these, Bucky…. they’re just words. A physical representation of an invisible bond, as someone said. And Hydra could never break that bond. That’s why I know you won’t kill me.”

“That’s pretty cocky of you,” James replied with a smirk. 

“Probably, but you’ve always worried about hurting me, and you never did before. Of course, before it wasn’t about hurting me with your fists. But no matter what, you’ve never managed to really injure me and you won’t now.”

It was probably best to not mention the helicarrier. James knew for a fact that he had sent Steve to the hospital then, but right now that seemed a lifetime ago.

“Prove it,” James said again, leaning forward to kiss Steve again. 

Steve pushed James back on the bed, never breaking the kiss as he shed clothes, James following suit, nearly ripping Steve’s off, not that he minded. Sitting on James’ chest, Steve sucked on two fingers, getting them wet before reaching back to finger himself. James stared, hungry, hands hovering as if afraid to touch.

“You won’t hurt me,” repeated Steve, breath going ragged.

James put his hands on Steve’s thighs cautiously.

Steve grinned at him. “Remember that time we crawled under the boardwalk at Coney Island?” He shifted backwards so James was pressed against his entrance. “You were so scared we were gonna get caught.”

Memories floated around. James caught one. “You rode me, like this. I put my hand over my mouth to keep the noise down.”

“Yeah, that’s right, you always were noisy.” Steve bore down on James, making his lover gasp and grab his hips as Steve started to rock on his cock.

James was bruising a bit, but he didn’t care. He needed this. No, it was more than just a simple need. They belonged together. It no longer mattered that James couldn’t remember every detail of his past, he was right where he was meant to be now.

“You’re tight,” James groaned, letting go of the last of his hesitation. Steve smiled down at him as he sped up. That was the last coherent phrase James got out, his words lost in the pure ecstasy of the moment. 

As Steve fucked himself on James, James wrapped a hand around Steve’s cock and jerked him off, keeping time with Steve’s movements. Whether it was just the bond they shared or whether it had been ages for both of them, they came together a heartbeat later.

Steve leaned forward, pulling himself off James, and kissing him deeply. “I love you.”

James smiled. “Only you.”


End file.
